Nothing Else version 2
by sodalicious
Summary: Version 2! Akane can't figure out what she feels for a certain pigtailed martial artist and decides to try the Secret Saotome Technique.


AN: Okay alright, here's version two. Thanks everyone for your wonderful if quirky comments. I really enjoyed reading the feedback.

Yuki – You have a point. Ranma was awfully understanding in my first version. But I figured they're about 20 years old, and they've been together for about four years, a little maturity couldn't hurt. :)

Vaniah – I'm glad you enjoyed the scene :) Naughty Ranma... though I don't mind. Haha

Emalina – Thank you so much!

AnnechanB – Thank you for the correction! I didn't even notice that.

Spam-chan – Thank you! And I am smiling, profusely. :)

Taechunsa – glad you liked my first story! And I must say you need to update more!

Doctor Emmit Brown – I'm very flattered you enjoyed reading the story. Sorry, it got you bothered especially during class! Didn't mean to do that.. heheh but I'm glad to hear it had an effect on at least one reader. :) I agree, I was going to first have Ranma run out, but that was so predictable. So I figured I'd turn the table.

Dark1 – Wow. That's a very strong comment! My goal is to become a writer. I have not read any romance novels so, I'm not sure, but I'll see. :D Thank you lots!

Koala Kitty – Okay, first, thank you for liking at least the beginning of the story. And don't worry, I completely understand ya. All that build up and it farts at the end. Hehehe I know I know. I guess it's cause as a person I'm just like that. I'm a very calm, low-key, and unemotional person, so the task of writing a big event scares me. But, your comment had me challenging myself to write a different more emotional ending and this is what came of it. I hope it satisfies you even just a little bit. A tiny bit?

Now on with the show!

* * *

It was quiet, unnaturally quiet.

But to Ranma, his rapid heartbeat thundered in his head, reverberating through his body down to his numb feet. He grimaced, and his feet felt like they were submerged in ice cold water, freezing and clammy. His equally cold hands shook slightly before he wiped his sweaty palms on the sides of his pants. Feeling both lightheaded and floored, he was tempted to calmly walk into the audience and take a seat for himself, especially since he felt his legs were about to fall off under him.

A cough in the audience served enough of an interruption to bring Ranma back to Earth. Taking a deep breath, he counted to ten, ignoring Nabiki's calculated stare a few feet away. Ryouga, standing next to him, was no help since he appeared as high strung as Ranma, himself.

Ranma willed his hands and feet to warm up. Shaking his body a bit to loosen up, he decided to think about other things – things that made him happy, things that always calmed him down, the very same things that he thought of at night on the roof, above her bedroom, staring into the sea of stars above.

Her first smile. Their first fight. The first time she smacked him. The first time he called her cute. The first time he made her cry. The first time he saved her. The first time she bandaged his nose. The first time she forgot his name. The first time she hugged him. The first time they held hands.

So many firsts to remember.

He didn't know how they reached this point, but it had taken forever and a year to get here. The first time they met as fiancés, he thought of her as a spoiled, if slightly demented, brat with a temper to rival a cat. And he abhorred cats. However, somewhere along the way, some time in the midst of their fights and interludes, he started to favor her. He wanted her by his side always, and no one else. She became his, his to touch, his to save, his to claim, his to protect.

He couldn't figure out what exactly drew him to her. Perhaps it was the fact that her life did not revolve around him, unlike his other two fiancés. She had other friends, a high school life, goals, and motivations that did not necessarily include him. And that bugged him. She was slowly becoming his every waking thought and even seeping into his dreams every night. Why didn't he have the same effect on her? Who did she dream of at night? And during those rare moments when she daydreamed in class, was it him who occupied her hazy mind and wistful eyes?

Though half of him wanted to run out the door and never look back, he knew that the moment he would take one step out the church, he will regret it for the rest of his life. And he had made enough mistakes in the past few years to last three lifetimes, he wasn't about to make one that would go down in history as the worst of mankind. Besides, he feared nothing, much less a slip of a girl who could make his world spin in the opposite direction, both literally and figuratively. He gulped, forcefully swallowing.

A deep red blush bloomed on his face for everyone to see, and he quickly looked down at his feet. Sure, they were wonderful memories, memories he wouldn't trade for the world. However, they seemed insignificant or weak compared to the memory of last night. A night he thought would never happen, a night he still couldn't believe actually did happen.

His blush spread to the tip of his ears as he recalled the way her short breaths ran over his ear as he buried his face into her slim neck. He licked his lips wondering if the taste of her salty skin still perhaps lingered on his mouth. The tip of his nose tingled at the memory of her scent, her lilac shampoo mixed with sweat and the scent of something that had him on a high that not even roofing-hopping could accomplish. His shoulder blades twitched as if feeling her nails raking down his back, not so deep as to draw blood, but enough to feel her urgency, her intensity, which only served to heighten his own awareness and desires. With a sudden burst of need, his impetus increased as her moans grew louder, her hot breath and husky voice incessantly whispering his name in a way that spread goose bumps all over his arms at the mere memory. And he felt naked, cold even, without her arms and legs wrapped around him, tightly and securely. He fisted his hands as his longing to stroke her shoulder, her arm, her hip, her thigh, grew by the minute.

If they only knew the thoughts that were running through his mind, Ranma thought as he smirked at the audience, and at church of all places! Unknown to him, a roguish, even some might dare say, sexy grin spread across his face as he thought of the night to come, and the whole month of nights (and days!) following. Suddenly, he was no longer twitching and shaking out of nervousness or anxiety, but from impatience and fervor.

Lightly, quietly, he whispered, "I need..." Unable to finish his thought or sentence, he looked away from the tall doors of the church. Ryouga glanced at him with an odd, questioning look, which Ranma ignored.

Where was she?

What could possibly be taking this long?

* * *

Akane stared at herself in the mirror.

She couldn't remember why she was here. What had motivated her to wear this extravagant, white mass of lace, satin, ribbons and roses? She fingered her veil, cascading from an arrangement of white roses piled on top of her dark, blue hair. Her hair was loose as usual, too short to actually fancy up. She recalled the day she lost her waist long ponytail, and a bittersweet smile slowly occupied her otherwise forlorn expression. But he had said she was cute with short hair. Her heart had cracked, remembering that her mother had short hair, and everyone had always commented the similarities between her and her mother. Kasumi was softly humming beside her, lightly smoothing unnoticeable creases on Akane's dress. Kasumi had beautiful long hair, and the folks still said she was a lot like mother. So, who looked more like mother? Kasumi or Akane?

She wondered, if she kept her hair short, would Ranma feel the same for her, the way her father obviously had felt for her mother?

For one incoherent moment, she worried perhaps it was misleading or wrong to wear white, since after all, last night... She blushed, avoiding her own eyes in the mirror. She had no idea how they ended up in her bedroom. They had been sparring in the dojo. Something to pass the time since no one was in the house at the time. Their fathers went out with other men in the area for a drink in celebration for someone else's wedding. Nabiki had gone off for a one night stay at a spa and massage parlor at a hotel that she had "mysteriously" won from a lottery-stand. Kasumi went with Nabiki, her first trip in years.

The house had been eerily quiet, and the night air was incredibly thick, as if time stood still only in the Tendo Dojo. Perhaps it had. To fight the discomfort and silence, the two agreed to spar in order to loosen their tense muscles. In the middle of punches and kicks, she tripped, as per usual, and though he didn't slip himself under her to block her fall like the fairytales would tell, he parried her fall and wrapped his arms around her waist, loosely at first. And when she directed her wide eyes to his, breathing heavily, he tightened his hold, and her world was turned upside down.

She never would've imagined his lips were so warm, so soft, and so sensuous. His lips that had cruelly and harshly criticized her in the past were slowly moving over hers, as if to mold their lips together. His oh so cruel lips teased and bruised her lips to the point of being swollen, and he didn't stop. In fact, he didn't stop until the next morning. His rough and unimaginably strong hands were everywhere, grabbing the collar of her shirt to access her bare shoulder, slipping under her skirt to massage her thigh, weaving through her hair to arch her head back and run his lips across the pulse on her neck, running down her waist as if to memorize her curves. Her head spun in this delicious, sweet confusion.

Her cautious and hesitant, yet increasing responses seemed to encourage him more and soon she found herself pressed up against the dojo wall. And when he whispered her name softly and darkly in her ear, his hands still running up and down her body, she knew. She knew nothing in the world could stop them now from finishing what had been a long time coming. She answered him with a call of her own and before she had even finished saying his name, they were already in her room, falling onto her bed.

Kasumi interrupted her thoughts, inquiring about Akane's suddenly incredibly red face. Akane shook herself from the memory and looked at her tomato red reflection in the mirror, before looking away. Mumbling something, she hoped Kasumi would move on and blame it on nerves.

She couldn't begin to describe how incredible the feeling was, having Ranma's weight comfortably on top of her, feeling his breath travel down her neck, across her shoulder, his guidance and consistency the only things keeping her from losing herself.

However, now, without Ranma's intoxicating presence, doubt and regret slowly seeped in her thoughts. What it if was too soon? Should she have waited at least until after the wedding? Then again, four years living under the same roof, spending every waking moment together, was a very long time. But why did it happen so suddenly? How did it happen so suddenly?

What were they going to do after the wedding?

Well, Akane thought as she blushed, it was pretty obvious what they were going to do right after the wedding. But, what about after the glamour and passion died out? Would this newfound passion and desire die out? Cold dread washed over her at the thought, and she bit her lips in distress. Would she be able to sleep alone in her bed at night knowing Ranma could be with her warming the room? She shook her head. She was being ridiculous. For sixteen years before Ranma and four years after, she was able to comfortably and happily sleep in her bed alone. One night with Ranma shouldn't, couldn't, wouldn't, change that.

Where did this need come from? Had she always felt it and merely denied it all along? Was this the need that Shampoo and Ukyou were so familiar with? If so, Akane didn't want to feel it. She did not wish to be like the girls who fawned over every swing of his pigtail to his cheeky grin. She prided herself in being at least more immune to his charm, oblivious to him, than other female nitwits. But alas, she was the first to give herself... or was she the first he chose to take and give himself to? She couldn't tell anymore.

Who lost the war?

Her grip on her bouquet tightened. Certainly not her... Not yet, anyway. She wasn't about to be tied down to a man who couldn't even utter one nice word to her, who didn't even have the decency to formally propose to her, who hadn't even asked her what she wanted in life. She was crazy to think he was hers; even crazier was she to think she was his.

Lightly, quietly, she whispered, "I want..." But, the reflection staring back at her scared her, rendering her incapable of finishing her sentence. Kasumi looked at her with inquisitive eyes.

Still gripping the bouquet in one hand, Akane pulled down on her veil with the other hand, the arrangements of glistening white roses tumbling to her feet. Ignoring Kasumi's startled cries, Akane bunched up the layers of white cloth and satin of her dress. She kicked off her delicate white high heels, and ran out the door, not looking back once.

The trail of white rose petals was swept away by the uncaring wind.

* * *

In the four years that he stayed in the Tendo Dojo, Ranma never heard Kasumi raise her voice, never saw one strand of hair out of place, and never felt anything but peace radiating from her ki. So, to say he was surprised to see a frazzled Kasumi burst through the church doors unexpectedly, would be a major understatement, both on his part and hers.

Everyone stared at the eldest Tendo daughter, especially since they had all expected Akane in her glory to appear in the doorway, not her sister. The murmurs and whispers rose among the attendants of the wedding, and the cold autumn wind that snuck in from the opened doors carried the words straight to Ranma. All at once, people began to speak out loud, the Tendo patriarch inquiring for the whereabouts of his youngest daughter, and Nabiki with nothing more than a surprised squeak. Ryouga, Moose, Ukyou, and Shampoo remained silent, too occupied with their own demons.

All eyes on her, Kasumi half ran, half walked to Ranma, her eyes never leaving his face. As he took in her appearance and emotions, Ranma couldn't stop the dull ache growing in his chest, the dread settling in his gut. He clenched and unclench his fists. His jaw tightened to refrain from crying out as Kasumi approached him.

With wide, alarmed eyes, he held out his arms to catch a stumbling Kasumi as she fell to her knees.

Grabbing his face so that the two were the only people in the church, she carefully looked into his troubled eyes. Trying to coherently form her words into a sentence that will most likely sweep the world from under his feet, she didn't notice the tears forming in her eyes. But, Ranma did.

Slowly, wiping the tears from her face, Ranma gently held Kasumi up and asked, "Kasumi, where –"

* * *

"—does this train go?" Akane asked for the third time. The train conductor merely stared, speechless, at this young, frail, and undoubtedly attractive girl in a large glamorous wedding dress. The pale white of her gown contrasted sharply with the black, industrial, construction of the train behind her, attracting the eyes of all the passengers in the train, and the people on the platform. Her dress seemed to suck all the colors from her surroundings, leaving the rest of world a dull gray. Standing in the middle of the platform, the two stared at each other for a few minutes, him trying to process his vision, and her trying to process her thoughts.

Everything had happened so fast. She didn't think she'd arrive to the station so soon. She supposed all those years of literally chasing Ranma with a mallet helped build her speed. Shaking her mind off of Ranma, she desperately looked around the platform for a different source of information since the man in front of her seemed incapable of speech, much less blinking.

For a brief moment, she turned to look at the road that led to the main streets of Nerima and eventually back to the church. Did Ranma know she was gone? Did he care? Was he angry with her? Absurdly, she feared his reaction. Ranma was a relatively calm person; his emotions rarely ran deep or intensely, unless it concerned her, which was why she had every reason to fear him, if he ever caught up to her. A light frown flitted across her face as she contemplated her future. Where could she go? Who could she run to?

If she got on this train, wherever it led to, she'd be alone. The notion scared her, yet she didn't deny the excitement that grew with every passing minute. And suddenly, regardless of where this train went, she couldn't wait to get on.

She ran to an old business man about to board the train and grabbed his arm. When she asked him for the destination of the train, he smiled at her kindly, the wrinkles of his eyes telling her of a life well lived, and answered, "Ryugenzawa."

* * *

It wasn't difficult to follow her tracks. After all, a girl in a wedding gown didn't exactly run across town everyday. That, and Ranma's incredible ability to run like the wind had him a few minutes behind Akane.

And he was mad, very. He was very mad.

He couldn't believe she stood him up, at the altar, no less. What right, what sane state of mind, did she have to leave him hanging without an answer? Without a reason, any excuse? Hell, he would've taken anything. "Sorry, Ranma, I broke a nail so we can't marry today. Maybe in ten years, I'll see you then," would have been just fine. But, to leave without a word, without reason, that was simply unacceptable.

He skidded to a stop at the platform of a train station. The train docked by the platform let out a resounding whistle, and it launched into motion, the rhythmic clanking of the wheels gradually picking up its pace. A train conductor stood on the side, seemingly dazed, and Ranma ran up to him.

"Have you seen a girl, about this high, and in a white wedding dress?" Ranma asked, if a bit rushed. He frowned at the lack of response for a few minutes. Resisting the urge to strangle the man, he turned towards the people on the platform. Running to the closest person, he asked the same question. The startled victim merely pointed to the speeding train.

Without a thank you, Ranma turned towards the train, the last train car still in sight moving down the platform. Ranma cried out her name and ran. He ran faster and faster, thinking of nothing but how his whole world was about to move on without him on a speeding train. His legs were mechanically running, swiftly, leap after leap, and his heart was burning, his head pounding. He feared his lungs would burst as he tried to even out this breathing, just as he was trained.

People gasped and watched the young man reach out to grab a metal handle on the train, fearing for his life. Several watchers cried out when he leaped off the platform to land on the open space in the back of the train. As the young man, dressed in a dashing tuxedo, momentarily collapsed to his knees on the train trying to catch his breath, people cheered and wished him good luck.

Ranma calmly, albeit shakily, stood up and opened the door to enter the train car, determination burning behind his eyes.

* * *

Akane Tendo stared at the passing scenery, the world just a blur of colors. Thirty minutes ago, at one in the afternoon, she would've been Tendo no more, but a Saotome. Akane Saotome. Saotome, Akane. Dazed, she glanced at her translucent reflection on the train window. The girl in the window looked lost, flickering and wavering as if on the verge of vanishing at any moment. Her silhouette shifted slightly, turning away from the window. Akane had the silly urge to talk to this girl, this girl who would disappear without a trace, without a conclusion. But that would mean talking to herself, and she wasn't ready to enter that stage...yet.

The streets and houses slowly began to lower in number as the more rural areas and groves became frequent. Less street lights aligned the roads, and more trees obscured her vision. Endless stream of green leaves brushed the windows of the trains, trying to hold on, trying to hold back, like loose fingers powerless but to touch its longing. The forest enveloped the train, devouring the people looking for an escape from the lives they left at the train station. And the trees shivered with glee, dancing with the breeze in their perpetual victory over man's will as the train disappeared into the jungle.

Unable to stare at the misty green abyss of the forest any longer, Akane shook briefly and turned away from the window. Feeling the presence of a body beside her, she turned to discourage the seated passenger, and got lost in the misty blue abyss of her fiance's eyes.

Akane prided herself in being fearless, dauntless, and spunky. However, that was before she met Ranma and he risked his life for her countless times, before he caught her every fall, before he fought her battles against the crowd of stinking pigs, otherwise known as boys, before he curled his fingers around her heart and squeezed. And it was most definitely before she left him at the altar on their wedding day. Okay, perhaps she was being dramatic. But she believed she had every right to over-react. Especially when Ranma was glaring at her with unspeakable fury crackling in his stare.

His long bangs overshadowed his dark brows and, though Akane insanely noticed how attractive he looked in his suit, she would've given anything to be someone else, someone other than the foolish girl known as Akane Tendo. His fist clenched on the headrest in front of them, his white knuckles tightening, and his jaw set like a bulldog ready to gnaw on your leg, he honest to God looked like a terror. Akane was horrified. For one fleeting moment, she considered playing dead. Maybe he would just sniff and walk away.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Maybe not, Akane flinched.

* * *

Ranma tried to calm down after he saw her cringe. Reminding himself that he never wanted her to be afraid of him, he directed his anger at the headrest in front of him, which seemed to be extremely durable in his death-grip.

He repeated his question, except this time as less of a bark. Only problem, it came out like a growl. Still flushed from his last death-defying run, he relied on his lifetime of training to control his fueling emotions. He felt the urge to strike out, to punch anything, to justify his hurt and anger by hurting something else. Maybe even hurting her. He looked at her troubled face and crossed out his last thought, his resolve crumbling at the mere sight of tears brimming in her large caramel eyes.

He sighed. What was the use of being the best martial artist, the strongest, if a mere girl could make him trip over his own feet?

"I'm running away."

He stared at her, dumbfounded. It didn't take a genius to figure_ that_ out. At his lack of response, or rather lack of growling, she seemed to be gathering up her strength. He watched as she brusquely flicked away her tears and straightened her spine, shoulders back, chin rising ever so slightly. He flushed slightly at the sight of her delicate swan-like neck arching gracefully.

"I didn't think this was a wedding we wanted."

That threw him off. Not a wedding they wanted? Did she think he slept with just any girl on the block? Besides, they were very well aware that at their insistence, both fathers would've given up on the arranged marriage. (Soun would do anything for his little baby, Akane, right?) But, the two heirs never pushed to dissolve the engagement. Why? Ranma once thought the reason was obvious, but apparently, it wasn't. He shook his head and realized Akane was still talking.

* * *

"...other girls. And we're always fighting, and calling each other terrible, horrible things, and picking on each other, and bothering one another, and... and... and... I can't even cook. You can't say one nice word. I can't control my temper. You can't stop being stupid..."

"Hey!"

"...and we'll be arguing for the rest of our miserable lives. And you'd always have that Chinese bimbo clinging onto you every morning, and your "cute" friend bringing over food every night, and we'll never have any time together, and you'll always be running off somewhere on your idiotic training trips with your dad, and..."

"Idiotic?"

"...Kasumi will always be cooking for us, Nabiki will continue to make the money in the house, and daddy will always be looking over our shoulders, and Cologne will forever call you her son-in-law, and Happosai won't stop fondling your enormous bust, and the Kunos will harass us all the time..."

"Enormous?"

"...and... and... I'll always be kidnapped, and you'll have to save me all the time, we wouldn't even have time to run the dojo, and we'll both be unhappy with our lives, and regret getting married, and we wouldn't do the things that normal couples do..."

"Like what?"

"...and...You didn't even propose to me!" Akane's voice raised higher and higher with each sentence. "Everything was so _planned_. None of these decisions were ours! How do you know I want to get married? You never asked! It was just _assumed_. Like everything else in my life, people just assume they know what I want!" Her hand slapped her mouth shut and she stared at the dejected boy in front of her.

She realized by the end of her speech, that half of these problems weren't even caused by or directed at Ranma. But he sat there, silently taking it all in. Listening to everything she had to say, and taking the guilt trip for her unhappiness. She dared to think he understood, that he was relating to her, and he would -

"So... you don't want to get married?"

Akane screamed. "That's not the point, moron!"

Ranma gripped his hair, "Then what's your point? What could've possibly inspired you to leave me – to leave me on our wedding day, in front of everyone we know, without giving me a reason?" Ranma took a few deep breaths and glared at her again, the most beautiful, stubborn, frustrating, gorgeous girl he has ever met. "What were you gonna do after you leave? Where are you going? To who? Did you even think about that? You think I'm stupid? What about you, leaving without plans, without a future, without a goddamn reason?"

"You are stupid! I just spent the last 10 minutes _telling _you my reasons. Besides, getting on this train without a destination is about as aimless as getting married to you without – without," Akane stumbled through her thoughts and words, "without at least caring for each other!"

Ranma scoffed and looked away, "You've got to be kidding me."

"I'm not! What's your problem?" Akane pouted and crossed her arms over her chest, defensively.

"My problem? Besides the whole being jilted thing? Well, you seem to have conveniently forgotten the fact that we... last night, we... I mean, that we had... we made...last night," Ranma stuttered and turned into a healthy shade of red.

Akane mirrored his reaction.

The train stopped abruptly, and the two peered out the window. They were still submerged in the forest and a station platform was nowhere in sight. Someone coughed from behind them, and they turned to see the train ticket collector standing quite timidly, averting his gaze to a far corner in the train car.

"I'm dreadfully sorry, but I'm gonna have to ask you to leave the train. We've been getting numerous complaints about the noise level coming from this train, and I have good reason to believe the two of you don't have tickets."

* * *

Akane stumbled as she stepped on a pebble. Hissing slightly in pain, she kicked the pebble into a nearby bush. Regretting having kicked off her high heels back at church, she unwillingly glanced at her estranged fiance walking a few feet ahead. She winced again as she stepped on a piece of twig. Why had she taken off her shoes? How the hell did she run across town without any shoes? She slapped herself. It seemed like a great idea at the time, dramatic, symbolic, like a movie.

_Well, reality sucks_, she thought.

* * *

Ranma did his best to think of absolutely nothing. They were just taking a stroll in the forest. This was not their wedding day. She did not leave him. And he was not angry. No, sir, he was not in the least, angry. It was a great day. The sun was shining and the breeze was brushing by. The forest greens smelled wonderful, and the birds sounded pleasant. She did not leave him. She was just a few steps back. This was not their wedding day. He was most definitely not angry. The sky thundered, and the rain began to fall.

_My life sucks_, he thought.

* * *

Akane wanted to cry. It was her wedding day. Her groom was ignoring her. Her once extravagant white gown was now muddy, pasty, and wet. Her bare shoulders and arms were cold as ice, and rubbing them with her equally freezing hands did little to help. Her hair was unkempt, and her feet were swollen, bruised and probably bleeding. Well, to say the least, she'd had better days. Against her will, a small whimper escaped her lips as another round of thunder rolled too close for her liking.

Before she could crumble in her self-pity, a warm, if wet, jacket enveloped her small body. Akane looked up, startled, at the dripping wet form of her fiance. And without another word, she was picked up a la wedding style by the red-haired girl who was a good foot shorter than Akane, herself.

She let out some incoherent sounds in protest but gave up pitifully, her arms clinging desperately around Ranma's neck. Wincing when she tried to move her dangling feet, she buried her face into the crook of her fiance's neck. She was terribly uncomfortable, still cold like a slab of frozen meat, and clammy like a girl in a wet wedding dress, which she was.

She gazed at Ranma's face. It was scrunched up, frowning slightly, and staring straight ahead. She seemed to be concentrating deeply on something, or just really really unbelievably pissed. Akane bet on the latter. Akane imagined her added weight, and the extra weight and length of her monstrous dress didn't make things easier for Ranma. A wave of guilt drowned her, and Akane tried to move as little as possible. But Ranma kept walking, stepping over the rocks, the fallen trees, and small bushes, in the pouring rain.

Akane brought her mouth to Ranma's ear, lightly brushing her lips on Ranma's earlobe when Ranma took a particularly abrupt step, and very softly Akane whispered, "This is still all your fault."

Ranma snorted.

* * *

Ranma, for the second day, stood nervously by himself. This time he wanted everything to be perfect. Another mishap, then he was going to walk out this door and never look back. Really, as God as his witness, if anything went wrong, he would be gone before anybody can even _think _of saying "Saotome Akane."

He nudged his tie, and roughly jerked down his sleeves. Clearing his throat, he rolled his neck and cracked his knuckles. He shook his body, loosening all the tense muscles. He was going to rock this suit, and be the man amongst men, so help him God. He was Ranma, best martial artist in the surrounding provinces, probably the best in the Eastern hemisphere, and nothing scared him! A feminine and clearly annoyed voice drifted up from behind the door, and he paled.

"— taking me? What has gotten into you two?"

Apparently, she was still grumpy from yesterday, Ranma thought. He couldn't fathom why. After all, she slept most of the trip home, while he carried her in that dreadfully humongous gown, and treaded through the jungle while it rained c-cats and dogs. Unceremoniously dumping her in her warm and undoubtedly comfortable bed, he crawled into his futon and promptly checked out from the land of the living.

Come the next day, and look where he found himself, the same place where he started, except with a few minor changes.

The door slid open and he held his breath.

"What happened to the lights?"

* * *

Akane grumbled and reached over to turn on the light switch. Her sisters had insisted she wait for Ranma in the dojo because he had promised to spar and train with her. Why he suddenly decided to spar was beyond her, and of all days, on the day after their second failed wedding attempt seemed even more farfetched. So, she approached the Dojo with caution. She wasn't born yesterday, . Her fathers were probably going to jump on her the moment she stepped into the dark dojo, and she'd end up in a wedding gown... for the third time.

As the bright light washed over the dojo, Akane blinked at the lone figure standing in the center. She blinked again.

"Ranma?"

He looked up at the petite girl in the soft yellow dress and white puffy sleeves, her slim arms leading to small hands that were nervously gripping the door frame. She stood apprehensively with her toes turned inward. She looked too endearing for her own good, and when she bit her bottom lip, peering at him with those glistening amber eyes, he had to stop himself from gathering her into his arms to kiss her senseless.

That probably wouldn't go as well as he'd like.

"Ranma, what's going on?"

She walked up to him, only a foot away. She inched closer. Funny, he noticed how physically close they were, yet, it felt natural. It just happened gradually over the years. At his first arrival to the Tendo Dojo and that fateful meeting in the bathroom with Akane, he became less and less nervous on physical matters. He had seen and felt her body so many times, it became natural, a necessity even, to make sure she was here, with him, and most importantly, alive.

He had become so accustomed to holding her, catching her, and evidently, "walking" in on her. It slowly established the obvious fact that Ranma was the only man would touch and see her intimately, physically. No one else. Just the mere thought of another man touching her, drove him mad. He would break any guy's hands, tear the bastard from limb to limb, punch his face over and over, and –

"Are you okay?" Akane looked at him strangely. "What's going on? Say something, dork!"

"Chill, tomboy, I'm getting to it," Ranma snapped.

Akane huffed and crossed her arms, "Well, hurry up, Ranma, or we're gonna miss dinner."

"Look, I'm trying to do this as easily and quickly as possible, so will you try to cooperate for once?" Ranma gritted out. He counted to ten, and then backwards. She was irresistible, yes, but also painfully difficult. She made him want to punch... himself. But that was often unnecessary since she would do that for him.

"For once? What do you mean by that? I'm always trying to help, or in this case, 'cooperate' with you! You're the one who's always telling me to-," Akane faltered as Ranma dropped to one knee in front of her, "butt...out...eh?"

"Akane...I know we don't have the greatest relationship..."

She sniffed.

"... and even though you can't cook to save your life..."

She frowned.

"... and you always jump to conclusions..."

She cleared her throat.

"... and you have a temper to rival a rhino..."

She restrained herself from kicking him.

"...and even though I will probably never say anything nice to you..."

She snorted.

"... and I will always talk before I think..."

She muttered an affirmative.

"... and I will always call you a tomboy..."

She growled.

"I want you to be my tomboy."

Akane brought her hands to her mouth and gasped. Looking down at him, with shimmering tearful eyes, she fell to her knees before him. Holding herself back, hesitantly and tentatively, she gazed at him with all the hope and longing that her naïve heart could muster.

Seeing his cue, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box.

She chewed on her bottom lip and almost passed out from her rapidly beating, no, thundering heart. Her eyes shifted from his eyes, to the box in his hands, back to his eyes, back to the box. He slowly opened the case to reveal an elegant simple gold ring with a small charming diamond. She felt like screaming.

"M-marry me."

She screamed.

* * *

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today in the face of this company, to join together Ranma Saotome and Akane Tendo in holy matrimony; which is an honorable and solemn estate and therefore is not to be entered into unadvisedly or lightly, but reverently and soberly. Into this estate these two persons present come now to be joined. If any one can show just cause why they may not be lawfully joined together, let them speak now or forever hold their peace. Who gives this woman to be married to this man?"

"I do." Soun never sounded so proud, as he stood next to his radiant daughter.

"Ranma Saotome, do you take Akane Tendo for your lawful wedded wife, to live in the holy estate of matrimony? Will you love, honor, comfort, and cherish her from this day forward, forsaking all others, keeping only unto her for as long as you both shall live?"

"Yeah, I guess I do." Ranma grinned harmlessly and winked at his wife-to-be.

"Akane Tendo, do you take Ranma Saotome for your lawful wedded husband, to live in the holy estate of matrimony? Will you love, honor, comfort, and cherish him from this day forward, forsaking all others, keeping only unto him for as long as you both shall live?"

"I - I do," Akane smiled sheepishly at her husband-to-be.

"...And so, by the power vested in me by the Province of Nerima, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may now kiss the bride."

Soun cut in between the two newlyweds with a cry. He looked apologetically at the celebrant and somewhat sheepishly said, "Well, they haven't gone that far yet. Let's let them do that on their own comfortable time." He couldn't rid the image of Ranma flying out the church with Akane's cry of "Pervert!" from his mind. The entire audience seemed to nod in agreement, while the newlyweds stared speechless at Soun Tendo as he slipped away into the background again.

Laughing, the two young lovers linked arms and faced the crowd.

"It is my privilege to present to you Mr. and Mrs. Ranma Saotome."


End file.
